#Sterek fanfiction

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Slow Burn

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Slow Burn

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: According to the stories Derek's mother used to tell him as she tucked him into bed and kissed him goodnight, when you meet your soulmate, and they fall in love with you, a heart-shaped mark will appear across your chest, right over your own beating heart, and then you'll know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you've found the right one.

By the time Derek finally notices it, it's been there for at least a few months, if not years. It isn't new — no longer the shiny, aggressive pink of a freshly branded burn mark, but a faded dusty rose, like an old scar or a birthmark, slightly blurred around the edges, though just as clear as the one he remembers seeing emblazoned across his father's chest every time they'd go for an early morning run through the forest.  It doesn't come with the fanfare and fireworks you hear about in all those fairy tales about love at first sight — a spark of light and a rush of summer heat like a flint being struck against steel — less of a wildfire, more of a slowly stoked hearth filled with glowing embers, a gradual warmth that envelopes him over time, without him even realizing, until one day, Derek forgets what it's like to shiver.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

By the time Derek finally notices it, it's been there for at least a few months, if not years. It isn't new — no longer the shiny, aggressive pink of a freshly branded burn mark, but a faded dusty rose, like an old scar or a birthmark, slightly blurred around the edges, though just as clear as the one he remembers seeing emblazoned across his father's chest every time they'd go for an early morning run through the forest. 

It doesn't come with the fanfare and fireworks you hear about in all those fairy tales about love at first sight — a spark of light and a rush of summer heat like a flint being struck against steel — less of a wildfire, more of a slowly stoked hearth filled with glowing embers, a gradual warmth that envelopes him over time, without him even realizing, until one day, Derek forgets what it's like to shiver.

Though it still comes as a shock — after all, he'd long given up on the idea that it would ever happen to him.

He remembers the sting of spurned hope, wondering why one had never appeared when he was with Paige, remembers hardly being surprised or even caring that it had never happened with Kate (and really, that should've been his first clue) but even amongst the supernatural, soulmate marks were rare. 

According to the stories Derek's mother used to tell him as she tucked him into bed and kissed him goodnight, when you meet your soulmate, and they fall in love with you, a heart-shaped mark will appear across your chest, right over your own beating heart, and then you'll know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you've found the right one.

Six years later, Derek stumbles across an awkward, gangly teenager trespassing on private property in the middle of the woods, and his first thought is that he's never met a more infuriating person in his entire life. He blames the strange surge of heat that blossoms in the center of his chest on the growing pains of re-adjusting from east to west coast weather (never mind the fact that this is northern California and it's the dead of winter.)

Despite all of his best efforts to mentor the newly-turned beta, it's his mouthy little shit of a best friend that Derek keeps getting stuck with. Even more bewildering is the fact that this person, this skinny defenseless human, this near-perfect stranger, keeps going out of his way to help Derek, to protect him, so much and so often that Derek starts to — dare he admit it — trust him.

He doesn't understand it, this unfathomable pull he feels toward him, the way they keep being drawn to one another, tangling up in each other's lives like some kind of invisible string tying them together, crossing paths seemingly whenever they need each other most. It's that same irresistible tug forward that leads him to the high school the day he gets shot with a wolfsbane bullet and makes it standing long enough to collapse in front of a powder blue jeep held together with duct tape and spite; that same logic-defying instinct that tells him to scale the side of the sheriff's house while on the run for multiple murder convictions and hide out in the bedroom of the sheriff's sixteen year old son.

There's no rhyme or reason for it, no history of familiarity — just an inexplicable feeling of this is safe, this is home. It's the last place Derek should call sanctuary, yet here he is, one clawed hand curled around the frame of the open window, tamping down the foreign flutter in his chest as he's met with a startled laugh and a smile warm enough to rival the sun.

It's easy enough, in the beginning, to convince himself he's strictly here on business, begrudgingly admitting that maybe the guy's not nearly as thick-skulled as the rest of their generation, and that maybe he could use a sharp mind to bounce ideas off of, to help him research and come up with strategies so that they'll be better prepared for the next time a half-insane alpha starts attacking kids in the woods, or a venomous lizard goes on a murderous rampage.

But then enough time passes in between Peter chilling the fuck out and going to therapy, and Jackson learning to balance the kanima with the wolf, and aside from a minor incidentinvolving a curse cast by a coven of territorial witches that makes everyone within a ten mile radius belt out their feelings in the style of operatic show tunes, the big bads of Beacon Hills kind of stop being an issue, bringing the bi-weekly Stiles and Derek strategy session to a screeching halt.

Which is why no one is more surprised than Derek when he shows up at the same time the following week, boots crunching over the frost-bitten grass, heart pounding like he's in the heat of battle, that same nettling question of what the hell are you doing here splintering through his mind for the hundredth time in as many seconds as he dithers over whether or not he should go up, even though there's nothing left to research, no imminent danger to prepare for— 

When his racing thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a bedside lamp clicking on, a familiar figure framed in the open window, silhouetted in a golden glow, disheveled bedhead sticking out and shouting, "You coming up, or what? Cause I'm only gonna keep this window open for so long. It's thirty fucking degrees outside, and some of us weren't born with a built-in fur coat."

Laughter rushes out of him like a sigh of relief, and in two seconds flat, he's scaled the side of the house and tumbled through Stiles's bedroom window, earning himself a string of startled curses and a pillow to the face. And that's how he ends up spending the night curled up against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with Stiles, a family-sized bag of M&M's shared between them, watching old reruns of Supernatural in the name of "research."

It's a little too easy, the way they fall into this new routine — nights filled with movie marathons and video game tournaments and the occasional baking experiment that somehow, miraculously, doesn't end in the two of them accidentally burning down the Stilinski's kitchen — until one day, it isn't so much routine as it is tradition. Two years to the day they met finds Derek crouching in a flower bed of the sheriff's prize-winning lilies, dodging the watchful eyes of nosy next-doors as he scales the length of the Stilinski house, fingertips finding familiar grooves in the siding. 

He doesn't look up from his laptop, but there's a roguish grin curling across Stiles's face as Derek vaults through the open window with practiced ease and lands on the floor with a gentle thud, shucking off his boots and leather jacket and settling into the well-worn spot on his side of Stiles's bed, stealing handfuls of popcorn and bickering with Stiles over which franchise they should marathon tonight: Marvel or DC.

(Spoiler alert: they can't decide between the two and end up watching a little bit of both, Stiles draped across Derek's chest come morning, snoring loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood and drooling on Derek's t-shirt. Derek complains about it at great length, insisting that he'd had less of a chance of drowning when he was paralyzed from the neck down in the high school's swimming pool. But then, if it actually bothered him, he probably wouldn't try so hard to stay still on all the mornings he happens to wake before Stiles does. And he absolutely, definitely does not spend the extra time counting the freckles and moles scattered across Stiles's skin like a delicate dusting of cinnamon and brown sugar, or marvel at the way the sunlight threads through his tousled chestnut hair and ignites it in a golden glow.)

They never talk about it, never plan it — it just becomes this unspoken promise between them. Sure as the phases of the moon, the one true constant in each other's lives.

Until it isn't. 

Until one night, Derek doesn't show up.

• • •

There's something eerily beautiful about the way the world looks in the middle of the night, wind waltzing through the trees, moonlight casting a hazy silver glow against the pitch black of the forest. Stiles likes driving at night. It helps him think. Helps him decompress. It's how he'd come to memorize every inch of this town, mapped it in his mind better than the moles and freckles dotting the back of his own hands. 

It's how he knows something is out of place when he comes across a clearing at the edge of the preserve that wasn't there before, trees uprooted, scattered to the sidelines like fallen chess pieces, trickles of blood dripping from their splintered cores. He follows the blood splatters like a macabre trail of breadcrumbs all the way to the abandoned railroad depot, shines his flashlight into a corner of the broken-down train car covered in rust-colored handprints, and finds a half-shifted werewolf huddled in the corner, skin slashed to ribbons across his chest and torso.

Panic paralyzes him for a fraction of a second, and then he's springing into action, heart beating a frenzied staccato against his ribcage as he drops to his knees at Derek's side, an endless chorus of it's okay, I've got you, it's gonna be okay spilling from his lips as he scours the first aid kit he keeps hidden under the driver's seat in an effort to clean and dress the worst of it. 

The moment Stiles touches him, Derek visibly relaxes, breath rushing out of him like a sigh of relief. Stiles, he says, like his name is a panacea wrapped in honey, the soft pad of his thumb coming up to rest against the swell of Stiles's lower lip. Eyes like a forest sunrise lock onto his, and for a moment, Stiles forgets how to breathe, heart aching at the way Derek looks at him — like Stiles is safety, like as long as Stiles is here, nothing else matters.

He pieces enough of the story together through sheer detail of their surroundings and the few words Derek manages to grind out between winces and gasps of pain — enough to know that the pack of feral omegas that ambushed Derek on his way through the preserve tonight won't be sniffing around their territory anymore — enough to know that a band of Kate Argent sympathizers broke into the Hale family vault and took everything down to the last penny — enough to know that Derek has been living out of this broken-down train car ever since.

Why didn't you tell me? the thought sparks through his mind like an accusation, a question steeped in protectiveness that masquerades as anger, because Stiles already knows the answer: Derek didn't want to burden him.

He makes up his mind without really even considering any alternatives, because honestly, it's been long enough. Once he's got Derek safely settled into the passenger seat, he leans up against the hood of his Jeep, takes a deep breath, and dials the sheriff's station.

That night, Stiles tells his dad the truth — about werewolves, about what really caused the Hale house fire, about everything, and the Sheriff, mouth drawn into a tight line, eyes blinking back tears, doesn't take no for an answer when he asks Derek to move into their spare room.

• • •

It's strange, adjusting to domestic life again.

Having people be kind to him again.

Feeling like someone's son again.

He doesn't realize how desperately he'd missed it all until the Sheriff — John, he'd insisted Derek call him — claps him on the shoulder and thanks him for keeping his son safe all these years, that after everything he's been through, giving him a home is the least he can do. He doesn't realize he's been crying until his pillow is soaked through, at odds with the blissful, welcoming warmth of his bed, drifting off into the first peaceful night's sleep he's had in years.

Stranger still is all of these new things he starts feeling — or maybe they were always there, he just never fully appreciated them until now — little sensations drowned out by the constant swell of fight or flight mode, now amplified to a thousandfold in its absence. 

The way his heart leaps into his throat every time Stiles's eyes meet his, the delicate shade of rose that tinges his cheeks as he looks away and tries not to smile rapidly becoming Derek's new favorite color. 

That little spark of electricity, like a live wire just beneath the surface of his skin, every time they brush past each other on their way to the sink, legs touching underneath the dinner table. 

That little tug of hopeful anticipation every time they linger in their doorways as they say goodnight, the way one of them always ends up knocking on the other's door less than ten minutes later for another movie marathon.

He's been living with the Stilinskis for less than a month when he finally notices the mark. In his defense, he hardly ever looks in the mirror. Hasn't quite grown comfortable enough to stare at his own reflection any longer than it takes to brush his teeth at night. But this time, he sees it, reflected back from the glare of the early morning sunlight as it dances across the screen of his brand new phone — a gift Stiles had badgered him into accepting his first week here. It's small and unassuming, barely bigger than a cluster of freckles — a little heart stamped across the center of his chest, bearing a striking resemblance to the same shade that paints Stiles's cheekbones every time he blushes.

He's half-awake, stubborn, and stupid enough to actually sit there for a moment and wonder who it could possibly be. His first thought is that the universe must have made a mistake. He hasn't gone anywhere else, hasn't met anyone new — he's hardly at the station long enough to warrant a universe-approved-meet-cute (his interview the sheriff helped him secure isn't until next week, after all.) So who could it possibly—

Derek perks up at the familiar scent of cinnamon and brown sugar, and can't help the smile that immediately curls across his face when Stiles comes stumbling out of the bathroom, toothbrush half hanging out of his mouth as he glares down at his phone, jabbing blindly at the screen to silence the alarm telling him he's late for his first day of his summer internship. 

He's got nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, rivulets of water trickling down his bare skin from the dripping, tousled mess his hair always becomes post-shower, and all at once, Derek feels that familiar rush of heat creep up the back of his neck and burn the tips of his ears as his eyes linger over the well-muscled plane of a torso dotted with freckles and moles like constellations just begging to be mapped.

And that's when he sees it — the little heart branded across Stiles's chest, identical in every way to Derek's, down to the very last detail. The heart beating inside Derek's chest goes haywire, breath rushing out of him on a startled gasp. A pair of curious eyes, golden brown in the sunlight filtering in through Derek's bedroom window, lock onto his, and a big, goofy grin spreads across Stiles's face.

As if led by instinct, by some invisible string tugging them in the right direction, the two of them look down at precisely the same moment — first, at each other's chests, then at their own, and finally, back into each other's eyes. He's not sure which one of them makes the first move, who closes the distance between them faster, but all at once, they're here, wrapped up each other's arms, Stiles's laughter the bass line of a melody thrumming through every bone in Derek's body, and it's clumsy, and awkward, and Derek ends up with toothpaste on his cheek, but it's the best kiss he's ever had.

[owiil]

Sterek prompt:

Phonecall where one of them accidentally falls asleep

I'm so sorry that this took so long! 😥 I got hit by inspo for my current WIP and kind of, flitted over to focus on that for awhile. Also... uh... my initial thought for this prompt was so cute and fuzzy. Like, Stiles at college, Sterek night time phone calls, Stiles exhausted while studying, adorableness. And then I wrote this:

"Where are you?”

Stiles sighed, feeling woozy and dizzy and a bit like he was both floating and very, awfully heavy at the same time. His teeth were numb and his cheeks felt hot while the rest of him felt rather cold and he was really, just, kind of holding on to Derek’s voice because it was the only thing that seemed really real.

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“Where are you?”

Oh. Right. Location. Location.

His eyes slid across the world like molasses. “An alley. Between two dumpsters. One’s green and the other is white.” He snorted. “The white one has a recycle logo on it. In what world is the white one the recycle? It’s always green. It’s supposed to be the green one. For nature.”

“Stiles.” There was an edge to Derek’s voice, sharp and hard enough to cut through Stiles’ indignation about the recycle dumpster being the wrong color and bring him back to the conversation. “An alley where?”

With a hum, he leaned forward. Grunted at the tearing sensation in his gut. Leaned a bit more until he was panting ragged breaths but could finally see past the dumpsters. “Can’t see a street sign. No people.” Until and unless Trent, or whatever his actual name was, unless it was Trent, which—ugh, Trent—managed to track him down.

“Anything that’s not a street sign? Anything?”

“Orange and yellow neon across the street.” He squinted his eyes, found it didn’t help clear his vision, and finally had to lean back because the pain his stomach had grown too much, also, he was loosing strength in his arm, could tell from the way he felt a wash of wet warmth down his front, soak into his pants. “Maybe a palm.” He panted a ragged breath. “Palm reader? Why does it matter anyway? Use your nose.”

“We’re still recovering from the grenade yesterday.”

Or what Stiles had called a grenade. It had been a magical explosive, not a literal one. Good for Stiles. Less good for the wolves who could barely get into a beta shift and whose senses were cut down to a pittance of what they normally were at.

“Right.” Shit. “Maybe I should call 9-1-1 instead.”

“What.” Not even a question, just a straight up demand.

Stiles’ eyes rolled in a very slow circle before landing on himself and immediately darting away with a haste he hadn’t managed to achieve up to that point. “I am bleeding,” he said, strained and a little nauseated, “a lot.”

“What?” A question that time, snappish.

“I— Did I not—?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips only to be as dry as them and he frowned. “I may have gotten stabbed. Sorry I didn’t mention that.”

“Shit.”

“’s okay. I’m positive I’ve been worse off before.” He thought. Was pretty sure. He took a deep breath, winced, and let his too heavy head thump back against the concrete wall behind him. “I could try that teleportation spell, probably. It’s blood magic. I definitely have enough of it.”

“You are not trying teleportation magic for the first time while you are…” Derek snarled.

Stiles’ lips twitched into a small, amused smile. Always leave it to Derek to be skittish and nervous around new magics. It was kind of hilarious. Stiles didn’t tease him about it nearly as much as he needed to. “Alright.” He took another breath and shivered. “Alright.” God his phone weighed a ton. Pulling it away from his ear he put it on speaker, though between the blood and his jittery fingers and the trouble he was having with his vision it took a few tries. When he did, Derek’s voice came through, mid sentence.

“—e Black Rose?”

“Where I started?” Stiles asked back, letting his hand and the phone drop to his side. “Yeah.”

“In the back alley.”

“He was such a good kisser before he stabbed me…”

A beat of silence and Stiles thought maybe he’d fallen asleep for a moment or the line cut out because Derek wasn’t one to takes beats of silence on phone calls, not unless he really had the time, then he was very much a beat of silence kind of person. Too many beats of silences.

“Did you…” A beat.

Weird.

“Did you take your shirt off?”

“Yeah, the make out was great before the knife showed up. Aside from being a psycho witch, his heavy petting game is really top notch.” Lids terribly heavy, Stiles let his eyes slide shut. Besides, the sound of Derek’s voice seemed to be dulling the— “Oh.”

“What?”

“Think I’m gonna pass out soon.”

“No.”

Stiles tried to open his eyes. It was a genuine fight. “I’m cold,” he said, taking another laborious breath. “And the pain’s starting to dull a bit. So, you know, you might want to call an ambulance.”

“Stiles,” was the last thing he heard before his eyes rolled up and he slumped over, sliding limply along the concrete wall into the pile of garbage bags to his left.

⟪more of my tumblr fics here⟫

[sterekbigbang]

Join us next week at SterekBigBang!

Presenting Author @waddi-writes & Artist @renmackree with

Magna Cum Ardoriter

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Alternate Universe – College, Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Teacher-Student Relationship, Age Difference, Humor, Light Angst, Banter, Snarky Stiles Stilinski, Cocky Derek Hale, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Wears Glasses, Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Knotting, Rough Sex, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship Word Count: 30617 Summary: Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s been lied to. Legally Blonde all but guaranteed immediate mastery over all coursework and an effortless discovery of his one true purpose. Instead, every class is a confusing nightmare, and the only revelation he’s had so far is that he might actually be too socially incompetent to make friends. Given that the sum of his accumulated attempts at having a quintessential, life-changing, college experience is a resounding zero, Stiles can’t help but reach one very disappointing conclusion: Elle Woods is a fucking liar.

[gege-wondering-around]

Third Penny Prompt work is out!

CLICK HERE!

Pick Me Up When Our Eyes Meet

Summary

When Derek gets the chance to save Stiles from the Nogitsune, he doesn't think twice about trying to rescue him by sharing their minds, but he doesn't really think through the consequences of what he'd end up doing for his packmate, which leave Stiles with another problem at hand when he wakes besides a motionless Derek Hale, pale as the death. Now, he has to find a way to wake him up and seal the fox spirit away from them both.

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski | Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale | Stiles Stilinski | Alan Deaton | Nogitsune (Teen Wolf) | Minor Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Friends to Lovers | Demonic Possession | Mutual Pining | Hurt Derek Hale | Hurt Stiles Stilinski | Hurt/Comfort | Emotional Manipulation | Possessive Behavior | in part two | Not Beta Read | Blood and Violence | Guilt | Getting Together | Tumblr Prompt | Stiles Stilinski Takes Care Of Derek Hale | Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski | Protective Derek Hale | They Are Married Your Honor | Everyone Needs A Hug | Other Additional Tags to Be Added | Spark Stiles Stilinski | Magical Stiles Stilinski | BAMF Stiles Stilinski | Overprotective Stiles Stilinski | Cuddling & Snuggling Language: English Collections: Penny Prompts Words: 8,802 Chapters: 1/2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

alright everyone! this work is for @dontcallpanic who had submitted to me a prompt a while back and that i'm still working on, but this is the first half of it! i hope it can be a good start to get back into writing and i really think it is, besides, lemme know what you think if you read it!

plus, does anyone knows why the link doesn't do the box-y thing????

and here's the usual pretty reminder to @jadezdominion for my usual 'new work post' and i hope @sterekloverforever and @patolemus dont mind if i tag them! maybe you'll like this work too!

this said, have a nice read if you decide to join in on the ride!

[okdeannawrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Smut, Humor, Stiles is a Little Shit, Derek sinks down to Stiles' level and pulls the floor out from under him, Gay Chicken, They both think, 'He's straight and I'm not so I'm winning this game of gay chicken', spoiler alert: Neither of them is straight, whoops, Frottage, Shower Sex, (no penetrative sex), Misappropriation of furniture perpetrated by one Stiles Stilinski, 'Chose not to use warnings' because there's no age specified so it's Schrödinger's underage, Silly words for semen, Brazenly absurd strip tease by Stiles Summary:

Prompt from celestialvoid-fanfiction on Tumblr: Imagine Stiles and Derek are talking all the way to the bathroom where Derek asks “Are you going to stay and watch me shower?” Stiles turns and leaves. Derek starts to undress when suddenly Stiles reappears with a chair and takes a seat. Derek looks confused and asks, “What are you doing?” Stiles, completely nonchalantly, replies “Watching.”

 If you haven’t read this one yet, go forth and devour. It’s such a fun read. 

[kaicha05]

Stiles (rushes down the stairs): Derek, have you seen my wallet?

Derek: On the kitchen table.

Stiles: And my keys?

Derek: Coffee table.

Stiles: And my pho-

Derek: In your hand.

Stiles: I don't know what l'd do without you.

Derek: Not surviving, that's for sure.

Isaac (sitting at the kitchen table, groaning): God, this is sickening.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Can someone please write a fic about that one scene where stiles grabs Derek’s face in magic bullet.

Where although he was out of it Derek could feel stiles fingers trail across his face. He could feel how softly and careful stiles was in that one moment. It had been the first touch from a human, from anyone, that did not cause Derek pain.

And when Derek wakes up he’s just obsessed with being touched by stiles again because he remembered how good it felt, how finally someone touched him and it didn’t hurt. Derek refused to wash his face for like three days after this because stiles had unknowingly scent marked him, and he couldn’t make himself get rid of the scent. How it made Derek feel like he wasn’t alone.

This action makes Derek’s wolf believe that stiles is pack, (stiles is the first pack Member!!) and he just keeps ending up in embarrassing situations trying to get stiles attention and his hands and him.

He probably just ends up blurting it out at stiles one day. Or maybe after killing Peter, he just get handle the weight of being alone, of killing the last member of his family, of being touched by Kate, of being hurt.

So he drags his body to stiles house and just gets on his knees and begs stiles to touch him, to make it stop hurting.

And stiles knows how hard it is to lose a family member so he does. He doesn’t think this will happen again, he just understands that Derek needs comfort. But Derek comes back over and over again and every time begs stiles to touch him. And stiles does, every time.

It becomes a comfort thing for the both of them, stiles running his fingers over the planes of Derek’s face. Derek gets to relax in the one place he’s safe, listening to stiles humming or muttering and the beat of his heart. It becomes a need, but soon stiles touching Derek isn’t enough, Derek wants to touch stiles. He wants to return the favour, he wants to scent mark stiles back. So everyone will know that stiles is claimed, that he is protected by an alpha who would kill for him. And he gets the chance to on the anniversary of stiles mother’s death.

Stiles is just so tired, his dad is working, will be all night. Scott is with Allison, and stiles doesn’t have the energy to beg him to pick him tonight. So he goes to Derek; Stiles isn’t really sure what this arrangement that he and Derek have but tonight he is the one who needs. He drives to the hale house and ends up sobbing by the time he gets there. He’s just sitting in the jeep in front of the hale house and he can’t move. And suddenly Derek is there.

Derek was already worried when he could hear the engine of the jeep pull up but when it turned off and all Derek could hear was stiles crying, he moved without thinking. He yanked the driver side door open and his heart broke. Stiles was sitting there trying to calm himself down, rubbing the tears from his face but nothing was working. So when stiles turned his head to him, eyes pleading and whining, Derek picked him up and carried him bridal style into the house. Derek just holds him for hours, memorizing the way stiles feels under his fingertips.

In the aftermath Stiles makes one joke about being a blushing bride (due to the blush on his face and being carried bridal style) and Derek is just hit with a vision of being married to stiles. Of being about to always be allowed to touch stiles and blue screens. Unfortunately Derek wolf takes this as expressed agreement that stiles is mated and married to them.

Derek buys rings the next day. Sure it takes him a few more years to propose but it’s the thought that counts. (Cocky Derek hale who flirts with stiles by calling him his pretty little wife, just to see stiles blush a pretty pink for him. But one day stiles responds that he doesn’t have a ring, so Derek just gives it to him.)

[hedwig221b]

Long time Sterek fan, long time lurker, and SO happy to see you here: any pack mom Stiles fic recs?

Happy to see you, too! I definitely need to catch up on pack mom!Stiles but these are so good! 💖

Building Blocks by Lisztful

Stiles doesn’t exactly mean to start cleaning up after everybody, it’s just that, well, sometimes he thinks Derek turned them into actual animals.

Needed by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Stiles knows he doesn't bring anything to the pack, but if that's true, why does Derek come to him for help?

take my heart from me by Areiton

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them. To Derek. He just wanted to keep them all safe. That's all Stiles ever wanted.

The Comfort of Coming Down by MadcapRomantic

Stiles isn't the only human in the pack, but, more often than not, he's the most vulnerable.

the three rules of beacon hills high (there is a cult in school) by graveltotempo

there are three clear cut rules in Beacon Hills High School: Do not hurt Stiles Stilinski, unless you want his friends after you Do not hurt Stiles Stilinski’s friends, unless you want him after you Do not flirt with Stiles Stilinski, unless you want his boyfriend after you

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles + pt2 | bad friend Scott | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage | Stiles is underestimated

[nvrhere]

Sterek but they’re in high school together AU ♡

[sterekeverlasting]

Welcome to the third edition of Sterek Everlasting, a fan-made magazine showcasing stories and artwork from the amazingly talented Sterek community. If you're a devoted Sterek fan, you've come to the right place.

Thank you to all the writers and artists who helped bring this publication to life. Once again, we couldn’t have done it without you!

You can read the magazine online here.

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Featured fics:

our love is as boundless as the sea by EvanesDust & Winchesterek E | WIP | human AU | meet cute | falling in love

entertained by halevetica M | 6k | beach fic | fluff | previous encounter

The Words Unspoken by isthatbloodonhisshirt G | 10.7k | established relationship | alpha!derek | summer vacation

Tickets for Two by MadMim G | 2.5k | established relationship | summer cruise | fluff

@thebigbangblogproject @sterekevents @teenwolffandomevents

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Little Handprints

There are little handprints on the walls. Eli has little hands. Case solved.

Based on the incorrect quote

Read it on AO3, here

Stiles leant against the kitchen counter, dragging his hand down his face as he let out a heavy sigh. A heavy case load and late nights were starting to wear him thin. And even when he wasn’t working late, his mind ran rampant, making sleep near impossible.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to wake himself more.

The sound of plastic clattering caught his attention. Stiles turned to look where Eli sat in his booster seat at the table. The food tray on his seat was splattered with toast and jam.

“You okay there, Trouble?” Stiles asked.

Eli giggled as he snatched up one of the pieces of jam-covered toast that he had knocked over and took a bite out of it.

“Yeah,” he chirped through a mouthful of mushed toast.

The nickname that had come from Eli’s comedic timing; Stiles’ dad said something about trouble following wherever Stiles and Derek go, and Eli toddled in after them at that moment, prompting the

Sheriff to say, “And here’s trouble!”

The name stuck. And it proved to be fitting on several occasions.

Stiles slid the coffee pot from the percolator and poured the dark liquid into his mug, heaping in spoonfuls of sugar before walking around the corner of the bench and into the dining room.

“Yummy?” Stiles asked as he walked over to the table and sat down next to Eli’s booster seat.

“Yummy,” Eli replied around another mouthful.

Stiles gave him a soft smile before resting his elbows on the table and letting his heady fall, heavy, into his hands.

“You okay?” Eli asked, his sweet voice coiled with worry.

“I’m okay, bud,” Stiles replied, unable to lift his head. “Just tired.”

He felt something tap his cheek. He lifted his head and turned to see what was poking him.

Eli held out a half-eaten piece of toast for him.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, bud,” he said softly, taking the piece of toast offered to him. He ate the toast, dusting the crumbs off his hand before laying his head back in his hands and watching his son eat his breakfast.

He let his mind drift, the world blurring into swirls of colour and movement. His eyes grew heavy as the seductive embrace of sleep crept into the back of his mind. His heavy eyes drifted shut and he sank into the darkness.

“Stiles?” Derek called from the hallway, starling Stiles.

“Hmm?” Stiles hummed questioningly—the most he could muster up.

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” Derek asked, peering around the open doorframe of the dining room.

Stiles blinked a few times, his mind rattling through the mess of thoughts for an answer. He lifted his head slightly and turned to look at Eli in his high chair.

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” he whispered.

“Because I have little hands,” Eli answered, holding up his jam-and-crumb-covered hands to show him.

Stiles turned his head to look at Derek.

“Because he has little hands,” he repeated.

Derek let out a soft chuckle, turning back towards the hallway to hide his smile.

It took a moment for Stiles’ brain to catch up with what he said, realisation stirring him enough for him to sit up and drag his hand down his face.

“What is it this time?”

“Markers,” Derek answered. “Thankfully, it’s the washable ones that Lydia got him.”

“I’ll clean it,” he volunteered, pushing back his chair as he tried to summon what little energy he had left.

“No,” Derek said softly. “Trouble and I will clean it after we finish breakfast.”

“I’m Trouble!” Eli said excitedly, perking up at his nickname.

Stiles and Derek couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, you are,” Stiles said softly, smiling lovingly as he reached out and gently tousled Eli’s hair.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Spooky Scary Sourwolf

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Spooky Scary Sourwolf 

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face. "Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. Whether it's taking autumn decorating from Pinterest-worthy to hoarder with a Halloween fetish (how many pumpkins is too many pumpkins? — according to Stiles, the limit does not exist) making himself sick on too much Halloween candy (because the idiot always buys two bowls worth of candy — one to hand out to trick-or-treaters, and one he keeps all to himself) or driving his packmates insane with some new Halloween themed internet craze, Stiles always goes way over the top when it comes to spooky season (or spoopy season, as Stiles likes to call it, despite Derek's many protests.)

This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. 

It would maybe, maybe be tolerable if it was only contained to car rides, but it's literally everywhere. He's always singing it in the shower, humming it under his breath during pack meetings, glued to his phone watching reels and tiktoks of other people performing funny little dances to it. 

The little shit even found a way to set it as Derek's ringtone, finding any excuse he can to call him as often as possible so it's just constantly going off. Derek, being the technologically illiterate one in the relationship, doesn't know how to change it back, and of course Stiles refuses to do it, because he thinks it's hilarious.

"Stiles, I swear to God, if you don't change it back, I'll give you something to really be scared about," Derek threatens, but the sound of that damnable ringtone duetting with Stiles's giddy laughter drowns him out.

Derek can't take it anymore. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

The next day, Stiles gets a text from Derek, luring him over with the promise of pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies and Hocus Pocus. But when Stiles gets there, Derek is nowhere to be found. He lets himself in with his copy of the keys, wandering around in the pitch black, calling out Derek's name, but there's no answer. Derek's loft is normally very warm and inviting, but with all the lights off, it's admittedly kind of creepy. Stiles tries the light switch, but no matter which direction he flips it, nothing happens. The power must've gone out — in the whole building, from the looks of it. 

The place is feeling more and more like Derek's old digs in the abandoned railway station, growing creepier by the second, and Stiles's feeling of dread along with it. High above him, a raven caws as it flutters through an open window, and Stiles lets out a startled screech, dropping his phone (his only source of light) in the process. He's definitely on edge now, hands shaking as he reaches for his phone and dials Derek's number. Spooky Scary Skeletons starts playing from some distant corner of the room — muffled, like he's hearing it through an old gramophone. Derek never picks up.

Stiles is definitely starting to panic now, heartbeat pounding in his ears, palms sweating as he struggles to keep a good grip on his phone. He hits redial and tries to follow the sound of the once-amusing ringtone, but there doesn't seem to be a distinct source — it's like it's coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A sudden break in the silence steals his attention to the far corner of the room — an eerie skittering sound, like a stone being skipped across concrete — and Stiles jumps. A few seconds later, it happens again. Over and over again, growing closer and closer, until something drops from the ceiling and lands with a deafening clink right by his feet — a loose bolt that looks like it came from one of the rafters. 

Slowly, swallowing against the terror lodged in his throat, Stiles glances upward, and lets out a scream to rival a banshee's. The last thing he sees before he hits the ground is a pair of bright red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. The creature pounces on him, sitting bodily on his thighs, pinning his arms above his head, and oh fuck, this is how he dies. This creature took out his super hot werewolf boyfriend, and now it's going to take him out, too.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face.

"Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free long enough to knee him in the balls. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

Derek's smile is positively wolfish, moonlight glinting silver off his half-shifted fangs. Stiles goes still, staring up at him with one eyebrow arched in provocation.

"How very…spooky of you," he says, eyes alight with mischief as an impish grin curls across his face.

"No," Derek groans, gleeful expression fading to one of pure horror. "Don't do it."

"Spooky scary sourwolf," Stiles intones in a lilting sing-song voice, before bursting into peals of laughter. 

Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh and rolls over onto the floor next to him.

"I'm divorcing you," Derek decides, reaching out across the space between them to link his pinky finger with Stiles's.

"We're not even married," Stiles points out, nudging Derek's shoulder with his own.

"I will marry you for the sole purpose of divorcing you," Derek compromises.

Stiles barks out a laugh and looks over at him, eyes as bright as his smile.

"I want an autumn wedding," he says, absentmindedly rubbing circles over Derek's ring finger with the pad of his thumb.

"Fine," Derek replies with a tone that suggests gruff indifference, features softening as a smile works its way onto his face.

A few moments pass between them in companionable silence, the two of them gazing up at the mosaic of a starry night sky filtering in through the wall of windows at the far edge of Derek's loft.

"I'm thinking chocolate," Derek proposes, glancing over at Stiles with a guarded, hopeful look in his eyes. "For the wedding cake."

"Oh absolutely," Stiles agrees, his answering smile nothing short of beatific.

"And do you know what song I want for our first dance as husband and sourhusband?" he asks, lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hold back a tidal wave of laughter.

"Oh no," Derek groans, but Stiles has already taken out his phone and pressed play, Spooky Scary Skeletons blaring out of the speakers in a tinny warble. He didn't think it was possible to have a full-blown one-person dance party while lying on a concrete floor, but if anyone can manage it, it's Stiles. Derek glances over at him, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches Stiles flail his airborne arms and legs to the music, and sighs. One day, he's going to marry this lunatic.

[owiil]

A Cat May Look at a King (on AO3)

Rating: M

Word Count: 33,545 (one-shot, completed)

Tags/Notes: future fic (end/post college), alpha Derek Hale, animal transformation, semi-canon compliant, angst with happy ending, hurt and eventual comfort, PTSD, a more... somber/serious/chilling take on the animal transformation trope (a little psychological horror, a little body horror)

Summary:

Stiles isn't entirely surprised that he finds himself transformed into a cat, it seems par the course with the life he's lead since Scott got bitten. But he always imagined there would be hijinks involved. The kind of thing where, when he and Scott go to Deaton's, they'd look at the kennel cages and throw elbows into each other's sides and laugh out, "Oh man, can you imagine if I'd gotten picked up by the Humane Society?!" But it's not. It's a little like the time he got kidnapped by Gerard and a little like the Nogitsune and a whole lot of please let this be over.

Excerpt:

“Go away,” Derek growls.  Stiles doesn’t move. Not that he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. He knows he needs to move, that Derek is utterly serious about getting Stiles off his porch, but his body is tense and quivering and— Derek takes a step forward. It’s the final push the instincts of Stiles’ little cat body needs. In the flicker of his rapid heartbeat, he’s scrambling back off the porch, about to dart across the lawn when he spots a dark hole under the stairs and dashes through it, into the bowels of the crawlspace under Derek’s house, before the foot even lands.  Eventually cat instincts recede, leaving Stiles clear headed and aware of just how bad of a spot he’s in, curled up in the dirt under Derek’s house, wet and wreaking. And holy crap, he just peed himself in front of Derek. Potentially worse, definitely worse, is the realization that he didn’t have any control over the situation. That, apparently, his cat body has cat instincts that go beyond meowing and can just… take over. Which is horrific. Because Stiles has been possessed, and while cat brain may not be the Nogitsune, he really fucking hates the idea of not being in full control of his own body. But… it’s not his body. Not really.

[sterekbigbang]

Join us next week at SterekBigBang!

Presenting Author @angeleyz4ever and Artist @renmackree with

The Alpha and The Spark

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No warning Additional Tags: FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Baby Werewolves, AU Canon Divergence, Future fic, Mates, Magical Stiles, Mating Rituals, Hunter-Werewolf war, FBI Spies, Bad Friend Scott McCall but not always, Bad Person Alan Deaton, Good Rafael McCall, Calavera family, Anal fingering, Anal sex, Mating sex, Word Count:46572 Summary: FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski's special team was supposed to save an old-world werewolf pack that was reported to be wiped out by hunters. Yet when they arrive, the camp becomes all-out chaos. Stiles and his two charges are lucky to make it out alive. So he messages the only person he can trust who would be able to help him... his Sourwolf. Derek Hale races to find Stiles so they can flee across the country, taking their charges to the only place they know they can keep them safe. Even when Stiles is wanted by the FBI and the resident Alpha is throwing a tantrum. Can they stop an all-out war and how is it the FBI has turned on Stiles? At the end of the day, can Stiles and Derek save everyone and themselves while trying to make a life for themselves together, or will they die trying?

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - 2024

Guess who's backkkkk??? Ok so I know that I am late but only by like 4 days? So not too bad. Anyway! Welcome to Prince's 2024 Fic Rec List! I am now aiming to do a list every year (and more if we are lucky but let's not promise that hehe). As always here are my top 10 fics I read and a special bonus mention !

Perfect Star That Hid by thebigoblin (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

He turns his hand— It’s not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name. His soulmate’s name. He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?

Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation. “My Christmas gift to you, nephew.” Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. “I’d like you to meet your soul mate.” *** Derek's uncle Peter decides to get a little more creative this Christmas by finding Derek's soulmate and stuffing him in a box with a pretty bow on top.

Stiles Stilinski, Magical PI by suzvoy (1/1 | 21K | Mature)

Stiles is a Private Investigator, only not really. He's also magical, but only close up. One thing he's really good at is lusting over people from afar, which is why it's a problem when Laura Hale hires him to help her brother.

Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee (3/3 | 12K | Explicit)

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits. Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side. So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.

Welcome to the Jingle by Jmeelee (1/1 | 1K | Mature)

Derek could admit—only to himself, of course, never out loud—that he was a little desperate to make new holiday traditions with his (officially all adults now thank god) pack. But his ideas had run more along the lines of a cozy take-out dinner at his new apartment, an ugly sweater or white elephant party, or maybe volunteering at the local soup kitchen. It had not involved spending Christmas Eve at Jungle.

Hey Dad, Derek Hale Is In My Room. Bring Your Gun. by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 767 | Teen)

Being the Sheriff's kid is hard enough. Having a seemingly over-protective father who's more concerned about your bad influence than your ex-murder-suspect werewolf boyfriend is so much worse.

"The point is, I'm an adult," he amends, heaving a weary sigh as he attempts to salvage whatever is left of his dignity. "I can make my own decisions, and I choose Derek. He makes me happy. He's a good guy. He treats me well. He looks out for me, keeps me safe. He's responsible and respectful and a complete gentleman, and I really think that if you just got to know him a little better, you'd really—" The Sheriff holds up a hand, effectively cutting Stiles off mid-ramble. "I like Derek just fine," he says, and the smile that spreads across his face is warm and genuine. "You do?" Stiles falters, completely thrown. "Wait, so then why—" The Sheriff's fond smile turns to one of wry amusement. "It's you I don't trust, Stiles," he says around a hearty chuckle. "I've raised you for 18 years, I know exactly what kind of mischief you're capable of. Wouldn't want you dragging that nice, respectable boy into any trouble."

The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway... right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.

Over the Hedge(witch) by rororowyourboat (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Derek moves into a new house with Laura and he is flustered by the hot gardener next door who is always just slightly dirty.

And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved by suchfun (1/1 | 14K | Teen)

"Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay." "You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?" Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood." Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head." "Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles. "I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead." Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."

Remember What's Lost by AMatchInWater (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Wild Hunt AU, Stiles gets taken and Derek instantly knows something is wrong with his memory, but just doesn't know what until Lydia calls him, begging for his help to get Stiles back because she thinks they have the strongest connection. When Derek saves Stiles he stops at nothing to finally get what's his.

princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic has a heck of a lot of emotions and when Derek fell to his knees, my heart broke. you gotta read it to find out why! don't worry I will never read or rec unhappy endings)

Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead (1/1 | 15K | Explicit)

Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late? ______________________________________________________ “Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked. “I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly. And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?

That is all for 2024 my friends! Please remember to give kudos and leave comments for all our amazing Sterek writers. I know I'd be lost without you all. Thank you!

[emryslore]

Sterek Fic Recs

Tag: Protective!Derek

If you'd like to request a list of recs from me just shoot me an ask and ill get back to you asap!!

Now lets get right into this!! Please Enjoy!

The Mummy (M) 28K (12/?) by killmesoftly_s

Inspired by my all time favorite movie, The Mummy (1999) When Scott, -Stiles’ step brother and best friend-brings him a key found within a Pharohs crypt depicting the curse of the infamous city; Hamunaptra, a trip is set. It’s in Cairo that the rugged and frustratingly handsome Derek Hale, who is the only living man to know how to find the city of the dead, promises to take him. Death is only the beginning and Stiles is ready for his adventure, stupid hunters and curses be damned. Rated mature for one detailed sex scene.

Autumn comes when you're not yet done (NR) 5.6K (1/1) by Lord_potato

The wolf (Canis lupus) is a mammal of the canine family. Biologically speaking, it is the same species as the domestic dog. The wolf is the largest canine living in the wild. Out of all the northern predators, the wolf is the most social species that prefers to live in packs formed by family units. extract: Werewolves. Fucking werewolves. His son had been hanging out with werewolves and had been fighting werewolves and had been lying about it all to him for longer than he realised. or the fic where Noah Stilinski finds out about werewolves and slowly gets used to being part of the pack.

Matryoshka(s) (E) 23K (5/5) by Gege_from_the_void_89

Stiles becomes known as Koschei when his father gets killed by a woman going by the nickname of Babayaga, and when the boy starts to plan how to avenge his father, the Russian mafia gets brought in sooner than later, till all his plan comes down to one single person he has to charm: Derek Hale. Will Stiles be able to get revenge for his father? Will he be able to handle something that wasn’t part of the plan?

Twilight (E) 67K (2/2) by Hedwig221b

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

We Ain’t Angry At You, Love. You’re The Greatest Thing We’ve Lost. (NR) 33K (9/12) by Christell_Nobody

Since Void, so much has happened. His dad is still just as neglectful, and now all his friends just stopped all contact. Derek and Peter left. If it wasn’t for Melissa and Jordan he’d be drowning and probably dead. After his 16th birthday he makes a decision, Melissa and Jordan help him and are supportive, a bit heartbroken but understanding. Noah doesn’t even care what he’s signing. Doesn’t care he signed his parental rights away, but was he ever a parent? With promises to keep contact, he is off. “So pack up your car, put a hand on your heart.”

Yes To Heaven (E) 85K (2/2) by Hedwig221b

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.